


His Own Soul

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Christian Bible (Old Testament), תנ"ך | Tanakh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-21
Updated: 2003-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 07:18:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1638536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then Jonathan and David made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul. 1 Samuel 18:3</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Own Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Written for bonibaru

 

 

Title: His Own Soul  
Author: Secret Santa  
Fandom: Bible  
Pairing: David/Jonathan  
Rating: NC-17 

Note: To bonibaru. Merry Xmas! 

Summary: Then Jonathan and David made a covenant, because he loved him as his own soul. 1 Samuel 18:3 

"His Own Soul" 

In Yehonatan's company he finds himself softening, weakening, and though he despises himself for it he can't quite decide to put an end to their friendship. 

It's wise, he tells himself, to be close to the king's son. He can use Yehonatan's protection. No one ever says aloud that Shaul is mad, but they all fear him, from the serving maids to the councilmen, even to Shaul's own sons, and Yehon alone can reach his father's heart. 

Even a madman can't help but love him, David thinks, and wonders if perhaps he himself is mad. He ought to make some excuse; return to his father's house and his father's sheep, to long empty nights out on the plain half-a-day's ride from any other human. But his heart won't let him leave, and neither will the king. He's the hero of the land, the mascot of Shaul's army. When visitors come to eat at Shaul's table they invariable ask for the tale of Goliath's defeat at Elah, and he acts it out for them, colorfully and with gusto, while the servants drag the great hulking armor out of storage for them to see. 

And he is careful not to look Shaul in the eye when he tells that story, because the fear he sees in that cracked grey gaze is enough to turn his stomach. 

Yehon, of course, convinces him to remain the king's harpist. 

"Some devil is troubling his heart," Yehonatan says earnestly. He says everything earnestly. David hates it. "Ever since he was young, ever since they made him king, evil has dogged his steps. But now because of you he can sleep at night. Nothing is so soothing to kings and sheep as your harping, it seems." He smiles entreatingly. David feels himself on uncertain ground. 

"I tell you he hates me, Yehon." 

"Why would he hate you?" 

David shakes his head, gritting his teeth against the sudden frustration. "There's no reason why he should, of course." 

Yehonatan frowns, dark brows drawing together like storm clouds in an already dark complexion. "David, please--" 

"Oh, alright. There's no chance he would let me quit, anyhow." 

Sudden dawn in Yehon's eyes, like gold. His smile is the sun. "Thank you," he says simply. 

David makes song out of that smile, those eyes, and plays it for an hour in the king's throne room until the rage has gone out of Shaul's face and for one brief moment it is as smooth as his son's.   
 

* * *

  


The king's service has its perks, David has to admit, his arms full of naked dark-eyed beauty. He can't quite remember her name, but she certainly knows his, and moans it with gusto as he grabs her buttocks and pulls her down even harder upon him. Wonderful breasts, he thinks, when he can think. Reaches up to cup one, sliding the nipple between his fingers. 

He turns his head, and meets Yehon's eyes. 

Yehon is being vigorously fucked by a girl with the loveliest thighs David has ever seen, but Yehon isn't looking at her thighs. Come to think of it, neither is David. 

He makes himself look away. Feels Yehon's eyes on him still. 

Later that night, wine slowing both their steps, they stumble back to the king's house, leaning on each other for balance. 

"I told you I'd show you a good time," he grins. 

Yehon turns his face into David's shoulder, muffling his laugh in the curve of David's neck. "I never do... dut... doubted it," he slurs, and bursts out in giggles again. They've reached Yehon's bedchamber now, and David manages to maneuver them both onto it without any major mishap. 

They lie just breathing there for a long moments, David's arm stretched awkwardly under Yehonatan's shoulders. After a while he decides to try sitting up. The room spins dangerously, and he sinks back down with a groan. 

"Dizzy?" 

"Dizzy," he agrees ruefully. 

Yehon shifts in his grasp, throwing one arm across his chest. 

He glances down, moved by some impulse to see that dear, dark head on his shoulder. But Yehon is looking up at him, and the meeting of their eyes is like a physical blow. All of a sudden David is very, very sober. 

And then Yehon's lips are on his and the room is spinning madly again, and he can't catch his breath. 

"God," he gasps when Yehon lets him catch a breath. "God." 

Yehon is loosening the belt of his robe. 

"We can't do this," he hears himself say. Are you mad? replies his cock. Shut up. "Yehon--" 

But then Yehon's mouth is hot around his cock and he can't speak for several more seconds. 

"Your father will kill me, Yehon! He'll kill me for this, if for nothing else." 

"My father loves me. He'll give me what I want. If I ask him for your life, he will give it to me." 

"Yehon--" 

"And you love me," he whispers. David cannot look away from those eyes. "You'll give me what I want, too." 

No, he wants to say. I don't love you. I won't die for you, Yehon. I certainly won't die for desire of you. 

But at this moment he thinks he may very well die of just that. He looks at his cock, hard and wet against Yehon's cheek. He has never seen anything more beautiful than that cheek. 

Yehon moves away from him. Leaves the bed and stands over him in the soft gold lamplight. 

First the robe. Yehon slips it off easily, baring smooth muscled shoulders and a lean brown belly. Then the rest of his clothes, until he was as naked as they'd been earlier that night, sharing the pleasures of wine and women. As they'd been a hundred times before without a thought. Now David's cock quivers at the sight of Yehon's body. 

He isn't finished, though. Naked, he takes his sword and bow from the chest near the bed. 

"My sword is yours," he murmurs, placing it in David's hands. David blinks; sets down the sword just in time to take the bow. "My bow is yours." 

"Yehon--" 

"My clothes are yours." 

David shuts up and takes the clothing. He can feel Yehon's breath coming quicker, as though it were in his own lungs. 

"My body is yours," Yehon whispers. And lays that in David's arms as well. 

What can he do but accept?   
 

* * *

  


His body knows what to do, even if his mind can't quite believe what is happening. 

His fingers find the cleft of Yehon's thigh. He traces the leg, down and up again, cupping his testicles, moving to grasp the base of his penis. He finds his way blindly to Yehon's mouth and they kiss for long moments without any other movement but the soft meeting of lips and tongues and the pulse of Yehon's heart against his skin. It must be the fourth or fifth time he's had sex today, but sudden urgency takes him, makes his hands rough, makes him grind his cock against a long lean thigh. 

Yehon presses something into his hands: a vessel of oil. 

Yehon moves to mouth his nipples, biting them when David wriggles. After awhile he gives up and lets his nipples be thoroughly laved while he fumbles with the oil. Manages not to spill it everywhere, and slides an oiled finger into himself. 

He spreads oil on Yehonatan's cock as well, hurrying now, impatient. "I want you," he urges, pulling Yehon to him. "Now. Please, now..." 

In one long, slow thrust, Yehon is inside him. Another and they're fucking, slick with sweat and oil, both of them flushed with wine and lust. David, the poet, forgets all language but Yehon's name. 

And some time later, climax rocking him like thunder, remembers that moment in the brothel when their eyes met and like a vision he saw this moment in Yehon's eyes. 

Sleep comes soon after to claim them, David curled into the hollow of Yehon's arm. "My heart is yours," Yehonatan murmurs, drifting off. 

It's not such a surprise, after all, when David finds the words on his tongue. 

"I love you," he says quietly into Yehonatan's chest. And, saying it, feels stronger than he ever has.   
 

* * *

 

 


End file.
